


Chinese Silver

by MelfinaLupin



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dry Humping, Heavy Petting, M/M, Romantic Fluff, takes place after episode 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8964559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelfinaLupin/pseuds/MelfinaLupin
Summary: Yuuri doesn’t remember returning to the hotel. He remembers the blinding lights of the arena as he stands on the podium, the sobering weight of the silver medal on his chest, and then Viktor cradling his shoulders as Yuuri politely obliges reporters even though he’s stifling a yawn every ten seconds. Then nothing. One moment he’s at the stadium, and the next he’s in bed beneath a mound of blankets.





	

Yuuri doesn’t remember returning to the hotel. He remembers the blinding lights of the arena as he stands on the podium, the sobering weight of the silver medal on his chest, and then Viktor cradling his shoulders as Yuuri politely obliges reporters even though he’s stifling a yawn every ten seconds. Then nothing. One moment he’s at the stadium, and the next he’s in bed beneath a mound of blankets.

The day had been one of the toughest yet this season. A sleepless night, emotional chaos, and the stress of a grueling program left Yuuri both mentally and physically exhausted. 

It feels nice to finally rest his tired body, and the bed’s warm and cozy, coaxing him back to sleep. He feels as content as a cat and stretches beneath the thick comforter, heavy limbed and drowsy. His muscles ache and his hip’s tender from smashing into the ice after his final jump, but stretching feels euphoric. 

Yuuri flips onto his side and shimmies closer to the center of the hotel bed, face pressed into the blanket. It smells nice. It smells like Viktor.

Yuuri’s mind strays. What was the name of the cologne Viktor likes?

He can’t think of the particular name but he knows it’s from Armani. Viktor loves it. He loves preening in front of the mirror like a peacock, sharply dressed from head to toe and dousing himself with the cologne. Yuuri wants to tease Viktor about this habit but it’s really adorable.

He breathes in deeply, savoring the smell. Consciousness stirs. He wants more than a token of Viktor. He wants Viktor.

It’s too late to fall back asleep now. Yuuri blinks awake.

It feels really late late. The hotel curtains hang open for the lights of Beijing to filter in,keeping the room from total darkness. Yuuri looks around to find his glasses, but sees that he’s been snuggling up with Viktor’s wool coat. And it’s owner isn’t far away. Viktor’s sitting at the side of the bed, hunched over his phone. The dim light of the screen silhouettes the older man, illuminating only a tiny, intimate portion of the larger hotel room.

Yuuri reaches out and fists the hem of Viktor’s sweatshirt. The need in his belly quiets a tiny bit. “Hey,” he murmurs, voice thick and clumsy with sleep.

When Viktor turns off his phone, the room gets a little darker. He shifts, stretching his long body out next to Yuuri on the narrow bed, and gently cups Yuuri’s face. “You’re awake.”

Viktor’s close. So close to him that his heart starts to flutter.

Here they can be as tender as they want to be. Their fight in the garage, the impassioned words they’d flung at each other, and the heartache caused by Viktor’s spurious threat doesn’t seem as fresh anymore. Yuuri’s glad. He hates being mad at Viktor.

“Yeah.” Viktor’s solid weight presses him down onto the bed. It feels nice, wonderful. Yuuri wants to close his eyes and dissipate into Viktor’s warmth. “How long have I been out?”

“About an hour and a half.” It’s so quiet and still in the room. It seems a shame to break the silence by talking so they exchange words in soft whispers. Viktor’s voice is slightly louder than a purr, and it only highlights the burr in his voice. Yuuri’s captivated. He'll will never lose his accent and Yuuri’s totally ok with that. “You were dead to the world in the cab. It didn’t feel right to wake you.”

 Yuuri chuckles, imaging the older man carrying him up to his hotel room. No matter how strong Viktor is, it must have been awkward. There’s no graceful way to carry a body.

“What time is it?”

“A little after midnight.”

He tries to think but his brain sputters like worn-down engine. He rubs the sleep from his eyes clumsily. “When’re we leaving tomorrow?”

“In the afternoon.” Viktor’s so indulgent answering all these meaningless questions. The Rostelecom cup is a couple of days away, but the plan is to fly into St. Petersburg’s instead of returning to Japan. Yuuri’s inexplicably eager to see the place Viktor called home for twenty-seven years. “How would you like to have breakfast with your friends before we head to the airport?”

“I’d like that,” Yuuri yawns. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. The rumble of Viktor’s voice is so soothing. Plus the bed’s so warm and soft, and Viktor’s scent is so comforting. It’s a triple whammy.

There’s a gentle press of cool lips against Yuuri’s. It’s gone too soon.

“...oh…” He wonders if he’d fallen asleep for a second.

“Oh?” There’s laughter in Viktor’s voice. “What do you mean by that? Yuuri, don’t tell me you forgot.”

Yuuri coyly looks up from under his dark lashes. The indomitable confidence possessing him in rink always disappears as soon as he sheds his costume. Once again he’s simply Yuuri Katsuki in soft sweats and messy hair, squinting a little because Viktor’s face is a little blurry. He’s not particularly special, but the way Viktor stares at him tells him he’s worth every ounce of attention the former skater gives him.

He turns pink until his cheeks sting. He feels like the biggest idiot in the world. It wasn’t every day former skating legend Viktor Nikiforov kissed a person on national television. “I’m still waking up,” is the only excuse he can come up with, but it probably didn’t unhurt Viktor’s pride.

Viktor doesn’t seem too put out. “Do I need to get you some coffee or should I just kiss you again?”

It’s a flirty joke, but Yuuri isn’t letting him go anywhere. He fists Viktor’s top and pulls him down, meeting him halfway.

Ok, so this is really happening. They’re kissing in bed like they’ve been a couple all along, and it’s sweet and a little romantic.

It would be so easy to get carried away. The way Viktor’s lips and warm, wandering hands make his body feel is electrifying. It’s addictive. Yuuri can’t get enough. He’s dreamt, hope, fantasized, about kissing Viktor for years, but doubted it would ever happen. Viktor was out of his league, miles and miles out of his league, but here they are, kissing and melting into one another like they’d both waited for this exact moment for far too long.

Yuuri’s gut tickles, his heart thunders his chest so hard he thinks Viktor must hear it, and breathing was getting increasingly difficult, but he doesn’t want to stop.Viktor kisses him again and again, sweet lingering kisses that make Yuuri want to melt. The strong fingers gripping his hips make him dizzy. His shirt is riding up and then Viktor is tracing the outline of his hipbone with his thumb. Yuuri’s toes curl. Pleasure shoots straight to his groin like a bolt of lightning.

Oh, fuck.

So maybe he does want to get carried away. Kissing’s new to him, but it definitely feels good to kiss Viktor. Really good.So good it feels like time stands still, like this moment is the singularly best moment ever in his life.

A groggy brain makes it impossible for Yuuri to overthink. He chases after what feels best. He buries his fingers in Viktor’s soft hair as their lips softly lap against each others because, God, he’s wanted to do it for so long. How long? Probably since day one.

Parting his lips feels like the next, natural step. The first brush of his tongue is shy and curious. How would Viktor feel? His inner lip feels as plush and soft as silk against his tongue.

The noise Viktor makes has Yuuri’s blood rushing south. It’s a needy sound, part moan and part growl. All desperation. Then Viktor’s dragging himself away, red-faced and shaken, before Yuuri’s  ready to stop. “You must be hungry,” he blurts out. “You didn’t eat much dinner. Do you want me to order you something?”

“Um...sure?” It stings a little that their kiss ends so abruptly. And he really isn’t that hungry, but Viktor is right. It’s been hours since the last time he eat anything.

“Ok.” Viktor scrambles off Yuuri and busies himself with the room service menu. “You should take a bath while the food gets ready.”

Now, that’s a good idea. He slips off the bed and pads into the bathroom. It’s a western style one with a modern standing shower with the toilet and sink sharing the same space. Not having a tub to soak in is a little disappointing. He strips quickly, either Viktor had wrangled him out of his costume or he had changed himself and simply doesn’t remember, and turns the shower on. The running water fills the air with cloudy humidity and Yuuri steps under the spray, letting the water wash away old sweat and soothe the aches in his body.

He could have stayed their a bit more, ruminating Viktor and his kisses. Viktor makes his anxiety a little harder to hear some days. Maybe winning the silver medal imbued him with a sense of self-worth that he’d been missing, or maybe it was Viktor himself. Whatever it is, he finally feels good enough to receive someone’s affections.

He tries to ignore his half chub, but its persistent. He’s still excited, restlessly excited, but rubbing on out feels rude with Viktor in the other room. He likes being kissed by Viktor. That’s a given. He likes being close to him, being able to touch and share the same space. Viktor, his words, his touches, make him feel unbelievably good.

Ok, this isn’t helping his boner go away any faster. Yuuri turned the nozzle sharply to the left and grits his teeth and powers through the chilly downpour.

A knock on the bathroom door takes him out of this thoughts. “Yuuri? Food’s here!”

“One sec!” He shuts off the water and towels off vigorously. Thankfully his dick decided to calm down. He wraps the towel around his hips tightly and drapes another one around his shoulders to catch any droplets from his hair. He steps back out into the bedroom. The world comes into focus when Yuuri put his glasses on. He’s pleasantly surprised to find Viktor still there, idly flipping through the TV channels with a can of beer pinched between his long legs. They have a suite. A large living area separates their bedrooms, but Viktor seems content to hang out with Yuuri.

“Thanks for dinner,” he say, blushing, and settling down on the edge of the bed. Had he realized he isn’t going to be alone, he would have put some clothes on. Too late now. It’s not like they’ve never been naked around each other, but it feels different now. Victor’s eyes lingers a bit too long. Yuuri’s blush comes too easily.

The meal looks ridiculously decadent on its silver serving tray. While Yuuri’s not a stranger to living in hotels, he’s never stayed in such a nice room before. They’re staying at the same hotel as the other skaters but he’s positive Viktor used some of his own money upgrade them to one of the better suites. He probably stayed at five star hotels all the time when he was skating professionally.

Probably is a lie and Yuuri knows it because he’s stalked Viktor’s instagram religiously over the years. The Russian loves to document his travels.

“What’s wrong? Not hungry?”

Viktor opts for healthier dinner options. It’s not his mother’s comfort food or even a celebratory meal for winning silver, but it still smells good. Plus he really shouldn’t be eating anything heavy so late at night so he’s stuck with a large amount of green vegetables and baked fish.

Yuuri perks up. “No, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

Viktor shoots him a soft smile, but his gaze is sweltering. He flushes and he finishes off his dinner quickly. Viktor doesn’t leave for his own room when Yuuri’s done. He picks up the tray and discards it outside in the hallway for the staff to pick up.

Yuuri takes the opportunity to change into his pajamas. He wonders if he should ask what Viktor’s plans are, but that might make things awkward. If Viktor isn’t going to leave, he's certainly doesn’t  want to kick him out. So he sits his glasses on the nightstand and crawls back under the covers. Viktor washes his face and brushes his teeth in the bathroom. Yuuri doesn’t even care that Viktor’s using his toothbrush. The lights flip off and the room plunges into darkness like a cinema before the movie starts. Anticipation squeezes his stomach.

“Hey, Viktor?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?”

“Yes.”

It’s a tight fit but they make it work. They are both fairly limber. Viktor wraps his arm around Yuuri and hauls him tight against him. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Chest to back. Groin to ass. Viktor’s hand slips beneath his shirt to lay flat against his abdomen, fingers dangerously close to the waistband of his pants. The two of them aren’t just close. They’re intertwined.

Yuuri feels light-headed and drunk. He swears he can almost feel Viktor’s heart beat through their shirts.

“Is this ok?” He's not prepared for how Viktor’s voice sounded so close to his ear. It’s a soft, and deep at the same time and the sound goes straight to his groin. He hopes to God Victor can’t feel the twitching between his thighs.

“Yeah.”

Viktor shifts behind him, snuggling even closer. The warm breath on Yuuri’s neck gave him goosebumps. He bites his lower lip. That’s it. He’s going to die from spontaneous combustion.

“Are you cold, Yuuri?”

“N-no! Your breath’s tickling me.”

“Oh, sorry.” Viktor’s dipped his head, burying his nose into the nape of Yuuri’s neck and breathes out heavily. Yuuri squeaks. “That’s better, right?”

“No!” He flips around so that they are face to face. He wants to give Viktor a piece of his mind, but the thought is cut short. They’re both wide-awake and bothered. So much for sleeping.

Yuuri swallows hard. “Um...Viktor?”

“Hmm?” Viktor is staring at Yuuri’s mouth like it’s the best thing in the world.

“Kiss me good night?” He’s playing with fire.

His chest feels too tight when Viktor kisses him, like he’s been holding in his breath, afraid to breathe and break the spell. It’s a deeper kiss than from before. Their lips part easily and Yuuri lets Viktor lick into his mouth. Yuuri sucks in a sharp breath. A shudder rips through him. He’s surprised how much he likes that. Viktor does it again.

Hands are seeking out Yuuri’s bare skin where his shirt has ridden up again. Yuuri wiggles closer. He’s getting hard again and he’s restless, desperate. He doesn’t care. Viktor is suddenly dominating the kiss, and it’s thrilling.

“Viktor,” he moans softly. His mind is getting fuzzy. It’s getting harder to think. How far are they planing to go?

Viktor rolls his hips forward slowly. There’s no point in being shy about it. Viktor is just as hard as he is, and it feels so good. Yuuri moans and smashes his mouth against Viktor’s. His leg wraps around Viktor’s waist, hitched high, before he realizes what he’s doing. He just wants to be as close as possible. He wants to melt into him. He can’t get enough.

“Yuuri…” Viktor’s breath fans his face. Lips pepper Yuuri’s cheeks, his neck with quick, sloppy kisses. “Baby…”

They grate against each other for a while, hips pushing forward and pulling away in perfect rhythm. Viktor hands feel as tight on clamps on his body. Their kisses are messy, greedy and too fevered to be gentle. Friction feels good and makes Yuuri moan in the back of his throat. He doesn’t want to stop, but his gut is tightening up.

Viktor rolls over onto his back, dragging Yuuri with him. They are close and kissing and getting excited and hot all at once. It’s too much.

Yuuri straddles him, their bodies flush. There’s no way to hide how hard they both are. Hands slip past Yuuri’s waistband and cup his ass. Yuuri is too excited to get embarrassed, and let’s Viktor guide his hips forward. Yuuri’s so hard and so hot now that he can’t stand it. He wants to cum. He wants Viktor to make him cum. He wants it so badly.

“Victor,” he moans softly. His tongue feels too thick and clumsy to say anything else, his throat too tight. He pinches his lips together, makes a low sound in the back of this throat, and grinds on him. His brain’s shut off. He’s in a stupor. Fuck, this feels good.

Viktor’s breath is coming out in rugged pants. A litany of groans and soft Russian fills Yuuri’s ears. He has no clue what Viktor’s saying, but he sounds desperate. Really desperate, and it’s the hottest thing Yuuri ever heard. Yuuri buries his face against Viktor’s chest, and rides him.

This can’t go on forever. Something big is boiling up inside Yuuri. He spills in near silence, his body pressed tight against Viktor’s.

Viktor is close. Razor’s edge kind of close. His hips rut fast between Yuuri’s thighs, rubbing his cock against him as his hands keep Yuuri pinned down as close as humanly possible. He finishes with a broken moan, his head thrown back, neck straining. Yuuri feels him shudder, and then it’s warm and wet between their bodies. It’ll be gross in a moment, but for now it’s ok.

They stay close, catching their breath and letting their disorientated minds play catch-up.Yuuri can’t think of anything to say. He just came on top of his coach/idol/crush, and Viktor’s hands are still on his ass like he’s in no hurry to let go.

Suddenly Viktor’s chest is shaking. He’s laughing, but trying really hard to be quiet about it. For a split second, Yuuri is horrified that he’s being laughed at. “If you’re going to act like this when you win silver,” he purrs, “what shall we do when you win gold, _Yurochka_?”

Yuuri flushes. Oh, my god.

He wants to get as far away from Viktor was possible but feels too wobbly to move so he continues to stay stuck atop him like a barnacle. “Viktor,” Yuuri whines. He’s pouting. He can’t help it. He’s mortified. This is a mortifying situation.

“I’m teasing!” Viktor’s arms wrap around him, holding him in a tight, overwhelming hug, and peppers the top of his head with dozens of sweet kisses. “Yuuri, you’re so amazing,” he murmurs.

The praise means more to him than any Viktor gave him on the ice. Sheepish, Yuuri sits up. He’s so relieved it’s dark and he’s not wearing his glasses or else it’d be impossible to look at Viktor. But he starting to feel gross and his pants are uncomfortably sticky. Yuck.

“I need to shower,” he murmurs as he climbs off Viktor.

Viktor wasn’t going to let him be embarrassed. He catches him in a hug bear hug and squeezes him tight. “I need one too,” he purrs in his best bedroom voice. Yuuri’s knees knock together. “Let’s go together. I’ll wash your back.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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